


Three D

by omgericzimmermann (HMSLusitania)



Series: The Good Ship Holsom [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Non Explicit Sex, Oh God What Did I Do, Threesome, doctor!ransom, parse mention, schooners!holster, why did i do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSLusitania/pseuds/omgericzimmermann
Summary: Ransom just has a crush. It's just a crush on a 6'4" very large d-man. Which one seems sort of irrelevant.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why this happened. I am sleep deprived, that's my only excuse. 
> 
>  
> 
>   
> ~~also i can't write porn dear god why do i do this to myself~~  
>   
> 

It’s just a crush. That’s what Ransom tells himself anyway. It’s just a silly crush that he’s got on a famous hockey player because that’s what people do. They gape over Crosby’s ass and they drool over Seguin’s general existence and they develop useless crushes on Alexei Mashkov. And Ransom can handle that. He can live with that.

It’s a problem, though, when it goes from the whole “oh yeah, he’s a d-man for the Falcs and he’s pretty good!” to “Yeah, he was born in Kiev while it was still part of the Soviet Union on January 7th, 1991 and he’s 6’4 and 230 pounds and was drafted ninth overall in the 2010 draft by the Capitals before getting traded to the Falcs in 2014 and he’s been ranked in the top 15 hockey players for the fantasy leagues since he got drafted. Also his mom’s name is Svetlana Valerievna and his dad is Volodya Vasilievich and he’s got two sisters who still live in St Petersburg named Nastya and Katya and--”

Ransom has a problem, that’s what it is. A really monumentally huge problem. It’s all compounded by the fact he could, very probably, meet Alexei Vladimirovich Mashkov at some point and also there’s the whole fact none of his people know he’s bi.

Well, no, that’s not entirely true. The captain of the crew team knows he’s bi, but that tends to happen after one provides a blowjob to another man.

But Ransom doesn’t know what to do about his problem, so he just ignores it.

It’s going pretty well, right up until Jack tells them they’ve all got tickets to the Falcs next home game and there’s going to be a party at his apartment afterwards and _Alexei Mashkov_ is going to be there and Ransom – well, he can’t get sloppy drunk to calm his nerves. None of them can, because they’ve got to keep their wits about them and keep themselves from accidentally outing Jack and Bitty, but he’s also super honoured that Jack and Bitty trust them all enough to let them interact with the Falcs socially when that’s even something that’s on the table as a possibility.

Ransom’s got to do something before they head down to Providence, so he waits until it’s just him and Holster in the attic and then he starts pacing.

“Bro are you okay?” Holster asks. He’s being all casual, reclining on his bed in just his boxers and Ransom doesn’t mean to look at his abs, but he does, because Holster’s pretty damn jacked and it’s a nice view.

“Uh, yeah,” Ransom says. “Yeah. I’m fine. So you know how I like, really, really like chicks?”

“Yeah,” Holster says. “Bruh, is this about March? Like, I’m sorry you guys broke up and shit, and she was totes hot, but I don’t think long distance is ever gonna be your thing?”

Ransom nods, albeit distractedly. Holster’s right about that, because long distance will probably never be his thing. But like, it’s not about March.

“Nah man, it’s just – you know I’m definitely super into chicks,” Ransom says.

Holster’s frowning now over the rims of his glasses. “Uh, yeah? Did it seem like I was questioning your straight cred?”

Ransom grimaces. “Well what if I wasn’t?” he asks. Holster’s frown disappears and his face goes soft in what Ransom imagines is surprise. “What if, hypothetically speaking, I had a crush on a dude?”

“Hypothetically speaking what’s he like?” Holster asks, and he’s taking this much more calmly than Ransom expected. But then again, it’s Holster, and Ransom’s not sure what he’d have to do in order to get Holster to hate him, but he doesn’t think it’s confess to having a crush on Alexei Mashkov especially since Ransom knows for a fact Holster’s still got Segs’ body issue somewhere.

“Hypothetically, he’s a six foot four, fuckin’ giant defender?” Ransom says, dropping into his desk chair and covering his eyes in dismay. He hears Holster’s bed creak and then Holster’s footsteps on the attic floor like he’s coming over to comfort Ransom in his time of emotional distress. “With mad soft hands and I’m pretty sure he could bench press me and he’s gonna be at Jack’s stupid party on Saturday and I’m gonna make a total ass of myself because like, he’s a professional NHL player and--”

He’s distantly aware of Holster’s footsteps stopping, retreating back to the bed, the bed creaking again while Holster sits back down.

“This is about Alexei Mashkov?” Holster asks. His voice is dead, completely devoid of any emotion, but Ransom can’t figure out why.

“Yeah,” Ransom says. “God, it’s so stupid right? Like he’s so stupidly out of my league like honestly--”

“Okay, first off, no he’s not out of your league, you are the league bro,” Holster says. “Secondly, you’ll have that whole party to figure out if he’s into dudes, and I can wingman for you if you want.”

Ransom pulls his hands away from his face and looks up at Holster with something akin to hope flaring in his chest. Holster looks a little sad for reasons he can’t fathom, but he also sounds sincere.

“Really? You’d do that for me?” he asks.

“Yeah, bro, of course,” Holster says. “Got your back.”

* * *

 

They get to the game and the Falcs are goddamn unstoppable. They’ve been killing it with their power play recently and Ransom is really happy to be there watching them kick ass. The Falcs win four-one so the party at Jack’s promises to be entertaining. Ransom is pretty sure that the fact Jack is even throwing a party is to give him an excuse to have the Samwell crew over so that he can celebrate with his team and with his boyfriend all at once.

When they all get to Jack’s apartment, the rookie, Fitzgerald (who they all call Poots for reasons Ransom isn’t sure he wants to know), ends up hanging out with Whiskey and Tango since they’re all the same age which is bizarre to Ransom. Their goalie, Snowy, winds up in a corner with Chowder talking about goals and similar and it’s with a weird sensation that Ransom realises they’re _also_ the same age.

“God, all our boys are the same age as the Falcs,” Ransom says, shaking his head over his beer. “Isn’t that kinda weird?”

“I’m the same age as Alexei Mashkov,” Holster says in a tone Ransom can’t decipher. It sounds almost bitter, but Ransom doesn’t know why it would be. Holster turned down the draft so he could go to college, and Ransom has exactly 0.01% doubt that he’s going to get a pretty damn good deal with whichever team he ends up signing to as a free agent. Whereas Ransom is going to go to med school somewhere and that will be the end of it. The end of his hockey career, aside from his continued lusting over good power plays and good players.

“Oh, yeah, I guess you are,” Ransom says. “I always forget you’re older than me.”

“No, is not true?”

Ransom nearly drops his cup turning around as fast as he does. Because Alexei Mashkov is standing behind him wearing a sweet smile and looking amused by the idea that Holster is older than Ransom.

“Two whole years,” Holster says, finishing off his own cup and taking Ransom’s.

“He’s twenty-four,” Ransom supplies unnecessarily, because he can’t stop staring, star struck, at Alexei. Alexei laughs, a booming, wonderful laugh that makes Ransom feel faint.

“I’m too!” Alexei says. He’s giving Holster a delighted look that for some reason makes Ransom feel a little…prickly. “You play in juniors, yes?”

“Yeah,” Holster agrees, sounding as confused as Ransom feels.

“For the Q?” Alexei asks, a flicker of apprehension disappearing behind his warm brown eyes.

“Nah, USHL,” Holster says.

“Oh, good,” Alexei says. “Then you’re not knowing – never mind.”

Ransom and Holster exchange looks. They know exactly two people from the Q and one of them is Jack. The other is Kent Parson, which is another spectacular thing, in and of itself.

“Do you think you play for NHL?” Alexei asks, grabbing a bottle off the kitchen counter and pouring them each a generous slug of something Ransom really hopes is not straight vodka. He knows Alexei is Russian, but he doesn’t know if he’s _that_ kind of Russian. He takes a sip and discovers it’s tequila which is a little better.

“I’m – Seattle’s kinda looking at me,” Holster says, which is news to Ransom. Ransom communicates that they will be having this conversation later by stepping on one of Holster’s toes, but Holster just ignores him and looks vaguely guilty. “But my agent is also trying to talk the Aces into looking at me since they’re not a defensive team.”

“No, they are play dirty forwards,” Alexei replies, his brow furrowing. He shakes his head and clicks his glass against Ransom and Holster’s. They all drink. “You are friends of Zimmboni, yes?”

“Yeah,” Ransom agrees. “I’m Justin. This is Adam.”

“Ransom and Holster,” Holster corrects. He sounds less annoyed than he did earlier but Ransom still doesn’t know what his problem is.

“Is nice to meet you,” Alexei says.

“Hey! Tater! Look at you actually being cheerful!” Snowy chirps from the other side of the room.

“Am always cheerful!” Alexei calls back. “Am have bad week!”

Snowy shakes his head and turns back to his conversation with the entirely enamoured Chowder. Ransom would worry about their goalie, except he’s doing the exact same thing.

“Why did you have a bad week?” Ransom asks.

Alexei sighs. “Am end relationship,” he says. “Is not fun, but is probably better. Is difficult with different team – I’m mean different schedules.”

 _Different teams_ , Ransom repeats in his head. He glances at Holster to see if he caught that. From the slight wideness to his pale blue eyes, Ransom guesses he did, in fact, catch Alexei Mashkov saying he used to date another player on a different NHL team. The NHL, which is populated entirely by men.

This is Ransom’s opportunity and he’ll be damned if he’s not gonna take it.

“Oh that’s the worst, man,” Ransom says. “I just got dumped too.”

“You did n--” Holster starts but Ransom elbows him before he can finish the sentence.

“Maybe we could go somewhere and commiserate,” Ransom suggests, abandoning his tequila. He hasn’t had nearly enough to feel even remotely buzzed, because he promised Jack that none of them would get drunk enough to get stupid. Surely, this doesn’t count as stupid, and he really wants to be as sober as possible.

“What is mean ‘commiserate’?” Alexei asks.

“Comfort each other,” Ransom says, meeting Alexei’s eyes with a perfectly measured stare that he sincerely hopes telegraphs his actual intent.

An amused smile curls up the ends of Alexei’s mouth and he looks between Ransom and Holster for a moment.

“I’m live in same building as Zimmboni,” Alexei replies. “I’m think maybe the three of us go get more vodka because Zimmboni has no vodka.”

“The – the three of us?” Holster starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish because Ransom drags him out of Jack’s apartment after Alexei.

“Is fun night, I think,” Alexei says while he unlocks the door to his apartment and eyes them both a little hungrily. Ransom feels his knees go weak.

He can’t really chart how it happens, how he ends up tilting his head up to kiss the actual honest to god Alexei Mashkov, or how he ends up with Alexei’s hand down his pants, or – or Holster’s lips on his neck and then Holster’s the one kissing Alexei and it’s actually the hottest thing Ransom’s ever seen. They’re both giant, shockingly well-built men, and while Ransom now knows Alexei’s kisses are soft and maybe even delicate like the best sort of angel food cake, it looks like Holster’s are the kind of kisses that pull your soul out, hot and sensual and sinful like molten chocolate and Ransom surprises himself by wanting a taste.

He interrupts their kiss to get his hands on Holster because obviously he’s not thinking straight (at all, clearly, since there’s nothing but dudes present) and he’s _right_. Kissing Holster makes him feel like his insides have turned to lava and he’s oozing through the floor.

“Is nice, both of you being so big,” Alexei says as he leads them to the bedroom. Ransom goes, willingly, nay eagerly, because this is going to be the best night he’s ever had, he’s pretty damn sure. “Ex-boyfriend is so small. Always think I break him.”

“Wasn’t Kent Parson was it?” Holster asks. He sounds completely wrecked and Ransom is so glad to have been part of the force that wrecked him.

“Is filthy player,” Alexei replies, which sounds an awful lot like confirmation to Ransom. He shrugs and pulls Ransom’s shirt off. “Is filthier in bed.”

Ransom is forced to correct his assessment not too long afterwards – the idea that watching Holster make out with Alexei was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Because it’s not. Because the hottest thing Ransom has or will ever see is the completely destroyed look on Holster’s face as he comes. Ransom’s vantage point – behind Alexei, buried deep – is definitely a contributing factor. It is without question the best sex Ransom has ever been part of.

“Oh my god,” he pants as they all fall, spent, on the bed. Holster’s hand falls to Ransom’s thigh and Ransom really likes the weight of it. Alexei’s head is pressed against his shoulder and Ransom is pretty sure he will remember this for the rest of his life.

“Maybe next year, when you are play for Schooners, we do again,” Alexei suggests, grinning at Holster. Holster laughs, breathlessly, and Ransom realises their ankles are locked together.

“Only after the game though, right?” Holster replies, which gets Alexei to laugh. “Guess you’re just gonna have to go to UW Med, Rans.”

He squeezes Ransom’s thigh briefly and it sends something that feels an awful lot like butterflies coursing through his stomach.

“Well duh if you’re going to play for the Schooners of course I’m going to UW,” Ransom scoffs as if there’s no other answer. And there isn’t, not really. He’s not sure there ever has been, and – and oh god he’s so fucked and he had no idea.

After they catch their collective breath, they take a shower, together, complete with a round robin of lazy handjobs and it makes Ransom weak at the knees to know Holster knows exactly how to touch him to leave him gasping.

They exchange their numbers with Alexei along with the promise to let him know the next time they’re in Providence – a promise they both make enthusiastically. Then they’re on the road back to Samwell, and if any of the others notice that they’re both uncharacteristically silent or that Holster is a bit uncomfortable sitting down, they don’t say anything.

They’re still quiet when they get back to the attic and climb into bed. Ransom can tell by the way Holster’s breathing that he’s not asleep, and he doesn’t blame him. He’s not sure he can sleep either.

“Hey Rans?” Holster says finally, sometime around dawn.

“Yeah?” Ransom asks.

“Can I tell you something?” Holster asks.

“Bro I think we left secrets behind somewhere around the moment Alexei fucking Mashkov was in the middle of a threesome with us,” Ransom points out. It makes him feel a little giddy to say it. Because A) he just had a threesome which was really fucking bomb, B) it was with Alexei Fucking Mashkov, one of his favourite players in the NHL and there was enthusiastic agreement on all sides that it should happen again, and C) he just kind of had sex with Holster and might have also realised in the aftermath he’s kind of in love with him.

“Yeah,” Holster says, although he’s quiet. “Uhm, so you know when you were telling me about your crush on Alexei?”

Ransom hums in agreement.

“Well you were just describing him, you know, the whole six foot four defence man thing, and I uh – I kinda thought you were talking about me for as second,” Holster says. Ransom inhales sharply. Oh dear Christ he has a type. A really oddly specific type. “And, uh, I kinda wanted you to be.”

Ransom slides out of his bunk and lands on the floor. Holster jerks upright and stares at him, guarded, like he doesn’t know what to make of Ransom at that moment. It turns to confusion when Ransom pulls back Holster’s covers and crawls under them, tucking himself against Holster’s side. Tentatively, Holster puts an arm around him and they both shift until they’re comfortable. Ransom’s not sure he ever wants to move.

“Do you still wish I was talking about you?” Ransom mumbles into the fine blond hairs on Holster’s pec.

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Holster says. “I kinda have for a while.”

Ransom grins and he’s sure Holster can feel it against his skin. “Good,” he says. Holster snorts. That’s how they fall asleep – Ransom’s head tucked under Holster’s chin, and Holster’s arm around him – and it’s how they wake up, and Ransom’s pretty sure he’d be damn okay with that being how he wakes up every day for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Re: Tater's background I made literally everything up, but like, shout out to my very understanding first grade teacher Svetlana Valerievna back in Kiev.


End file.
